


Pinned

by Zai42



Series: Promptober 2019 [8]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Banter, Bets & Wagers, Gen, Impersonation, Interrogation, M/M, Magic, Strangulation, Torture, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-17 12:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: The Burning Legion has fallen, but there are those who would resurrect it.Prompt: Don't Move.





	1. Don't

**Author's Note:**

> I had two ideas for this prompt, this darker one and a fluffier, pornier one, so keep an eye out for that coming soon.

"Don't move."

  
It was a redundant statement, one Medivh normally would have mocked, but he could only let out a wheezing, wordless shell of a laugh. He twisted uselessly against the wall of magic pinning him; he made a mental note to apologize to Khadgar later. His shoulderblades ground against the stonework behind him. The dreadlord wearing his face smiled, cold and flat, and started closer.

  
The pressure on Medivh's chest increased with each step the dreadlord took, and Medivh's breathing was reduced to sharp, shallow inhales. His lips began to tingle; black spots danced in front of his face. The dreadlord grasped his jaw and tilted his head back, and Medivh allowed it, too breathless to even glare.

  
"It's sad, really," the dreadlord said. "The once-mighty Guardian - are you so helpless, without the Destroyer's power bolstering you?" The dreadlord tipped Medivh's face downwards again, and his eyes flickered rapidly from one shade of green to another. "I should get the eyes right," he said. "I'm sure your beloved apprentice would notice if they were wrong."

  
Medivh croaked out one syllable of a protest. The dreadlord gave him an unimpressed look and waved a hand. The pressure on his chest eased into something more manageable, and Medivh pulled in a heaving breath, his lungs aching. "What do you want with Khadgar?" he demanded, voice low and rough with mistreatment.

  
It should have been odd to see his own face lit up with such malice, but Medivh had long since grown used to it. "To kill him, most likely," the demon said. "Or perhaps to bend his ear, if he it foolish enough to lend it." He dragged a hand down Medivh's throat, thumb stroking slow over his larynx. "How much of you has he seen?" he asked, voice taunting. "The succubae have their rumors, but I'm curious."

  
"You think Dalaran would be a valuable asset?" Medivh said, ignoring the barb. "Or do you just want vengeance for how he thwarted your master?"

  
A foolish question, perhaps. The dreadlord slammed him hard against the wall, magic choking the air from his lungs once more. "Sargeras is my master no more," the dreadlord said, with a tight flippancy that failed to hide his irritation. "But I must admit, there's a certain poetry to your meddling gnat of a mage aiding my ascendancy to Highlord of the Burning Legion."

  
Medivh managed a laugh that almost made it to derisive. "You?" he croaked. "Who would follow - some nameless - " The pressure against his chest grew unbearable once more, and Medivh's voice stuttered out.

  
"I have my cultists," the dreadlord snapped. "In the walls of your city. In its guard towers. And soon, in its Council."

  
Medivh felt the dreadlord's magic shift around him. _All right,_ he thought, _that's probably all I'm going to get._

  
Medivh snapped the dreadlord's spell easily, just managing to keep his feet as he dropped away from the wall. The air sizzled with the unhealthy heat of a diverted felfire bolt, and the demon snarled in rage. Medivh held himself up to his full height, magic sparking around him, mouth twisted in distaste. "I have to say I'm getting quite fed up with you demons taking my face," he said dryly. He extended one hand, arcane power lancing between his fingertips. "Quite a lovely chat, though. Thank you."

  
The demon howled and lurched forward and was shredded apart entirely by the streak of power that Medivh fired at him. Medivh waited for a long moment to be sure he had been banished to the Nether, then slumped against the wall and took in a long, slow breath. His lungs burned with the stretch of it. "All right," he said, mostly to work the roughness from the edges of his voice. "To Dalaran, then." 


	2. Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As signature spells go, pinning your opponent to a wall certainly has its perks.

"Don't move."

  
Medivh let out a breathless laugh, arching into Khadgar's magic. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, letting his eyes slip closed. He rolled his shoulders against the stonework; Khadgar had softened the blow, slipped a layer of soft, warm magic between the unforgiving wall and Medivh's back. "You always were a soft touch. You can be rougher than this."

  
He opened his eyes in time to see Khadgar standing before him, regarding him with the same curious expression he wore when observing some particularly clever bit of spellwork. "I could, certainly," he said; he reached out, traced the curve of Medivh's sharp cheekbone with his knuckles. Medivh tilted his head downward and cocked an eyebrow in challenge.

  
Khadgar kissed the way he did anything he thought worth doing - thoroughly and with no small degree of recklessness. Medivh sighed and let himself be pressed harder back against the wall, licking the static tang of mana from Khadgar's mouth. Khadgar traced feather-light touches down his chest, fingertips just barely grazing over skin; one broad palm eased up the back of his thigh, stroked briefly over the curve of his ass, and retreated to settle at his hip, thumb moving in slow circles.

  
Khadgar pulled away, and Medivh tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling, breathing carefully through his nose, trying not to make any embarrassing noises. "I take it all back, you're unbearably cruel."

  
Khadgar laughed, low and warm, burying his nose in the crook of Medivh's neck. "Already?" he murmured, lips moving electrically against Medivh's skin. "Oh, master, I've barely started."

  
Medivh shuddered. "Promises," he muttered. Khadgar's fingers dipped beneath his robes, tracing his ribcage. "I can make you impatient with one hand tied behind my back." He hissed as Khadgar pinched lightly at a nipple. "Or both pinned above my head," he amended.

  
He squirmed smugly as Khadgar regarded him from too close, eyes bright at the promise of a challenge. "Is that so?" The angle was awkward, and Medivh's range of movement limited, but he ducked his head and just managed to graze his lips along the shell of Khadgar's ear. Khadgar cradled his jaw and tipped his head back, fixing it more firmly against the wall. "Let's see about that."

  
He murmured something beneath his breath, and Medivh felt the familiar swoop in his stomach as his center of gravity vanished. Khadgar hoisted his legs up around his waist and pressed him back into the wall, nipping along the column of his throat; Medivh hooked his ankles at the small of Khadgar's back and tugged him closer. "Mm, a levitation spell, really?"

  
"Do you want me to throw my back out?" Khadgar replied. His hands flexed, groping greedily at the flesh of Medivh's thighs. Leaning in close, burying his face in the loose tangle of Medivh's hair, he said softly, "Relax. Let me take care of you, master."

  
For a moment, Medivh stilled, challenge forgotten. "Such a soft touch, Young Trust," he said, low and fond. Khadgar kissed him, slow and gentle at first but quickly building towards something frantic, all tongue and teeth and rolling hips. Medivh panted into his mouth and just managed to gasp _"please,"_ before Khadgar was pressing one slick finger into him.

  
"More," Medivh demanded. His hands strained where they were trapped above his head; he briefly considered breaking Khadgar's spell, but he restrained himself in the name of sportsmanship. _"Khadgar - "_

  
"Medivh," Khadgar replied, just as breathless. "Always so bossy." His hands were trembling as he lined up their hips. His voice shook with want.

  
Medivh went limp against the wall, tossing his head back to moan shamelessly as Khadgar sank into him. "You're - ah - holding back," he said, when Khadgar went still.

  
"I'm an old man now," Khadgar said. He leaned forward, one hand absently carding through Medivh's hair. His breath was hot against Medivh's neck. "It's as much for me as for you."

  
"I'd argue more for you," Medivh said, tugging against Khadgar's hold on him. Khadgar groaned, his hips jolting forward, his hands coming up to hold Medivh still. "Yes," Medivh hissed, turning his head to whisper encouragement directly into Khadgar's ear. "Yes - Khadgar - _more - "_

  
"You are such a cheater," Khadgar moaned, despairing, and fucked him into the wall.

  
Afterwards, in a tangled heap on the floor, Medivh was humming contentedly, running his fingers through Khadgar's hair. "Did I win?" he asked.

  
Khadgar made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a wheeze. "You play dirty," he said. "I'll gag you next time."

  
Medivh pressed a kiss to the top of Khadgar's head. "It won't help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god this took so long, why do they talk so much


End file.
